


Ring of Fire

by snowshus



Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Villain, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 03:51:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19054678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowshus/pseuds/snowshus
Summary: The evidence is clear and it all points the murderer being known small time thief Spider-man. Johnny doesn't care about the evidence. He knows Spidey and he knows he didn't do this.





	Ring of Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ConvenientAlias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConvenientAlias/gifts).



"Come on, Spidey. You know I'm always gonna catch you," Johnny’s flames surround Spider-Man, trapping him in a ring of fire. The flickering of the fire move light and shadow around his wide eyed mask. The reflection of the blue and red lights from the approaching police paints the walls behind him and shows an ever changing silhouette of a man with his hands on his head. It makes it hard to see exactly what he's doing, but he's got nowhere to run, no way out.

Not this time.

"Good to know I can always count on you." Spider-Man sounds like he's smiling, though it's impossible to tell. "Unfortunately, I got to run. Places to see, people to be. You know how it goes."

"What are you-" Johnny starts to say just as Spider-Man does something with his wrists and he's shooting out of the circle of Johnny's flame and into the rafters. Johnny swears and takes off after him. The flames of Spider-Man's ineffectual prison trailing behind him as he reabsorbs the fire.

They race through the roof tops and though Johnny has the advantage in speed, Spider-Man’s web shooters let him move in unpredictable ways and gives him the upper hand around corners. He gets Johnny coming around one, the webbing is sticky and unforgiving as it pins Johnny. He struggles against it but gets nowhere. 

“Look at who’s gotten themselves caught in a cobweb,” Spider-Man says sinking upside-down. 

“You won’t get away,” Johnny promises.

“Because you’re always gonna catch me?” Spider-Man teases.

“Exactly,” Johnny says laying on a burst of heat that melts the webbing, freeing him.

But it's already too late. Spider-Man is gone. Again. Stupid web-shooters. Johnny always forgets how good Spidey is with them.

The next day his picture is front page of The Daily Bugle. It's a good picture. Johnny's flames are pouring out of his hands and his ring of fire prison is starting to take shape, but it's still low enough that you can see Spider-Man starting to get up. The credit, as always, goes to one Peter Parker.

"Your stalker was there again, huh?" Ben asks, glancing at the paper.

"You just wish he was taking pictures of you. Too bad your face would probably break his camera," Johnny shoot back. "He's not my stalker anyways, He takes pictures of lots of heroes and villains. I mean if he's anyone's stalker, he's got to be Spider-Man's. I don't think he's ever missed a Spider-Man fight."

There's a moment of silence while they both take that in.

"He totally knows Spider-Man."

"He totally knows Spider-Man," Ben agrees. 

"It all makes sense now!. Every time we get an anonymous tip about Spider-Man, there's always a picture the next day. He’s got an inside source. He knows where Spider-Man's going to hit - he definitely knows who Spider-Man is," Johnny babbles excitedly. "I gotta go.” He grabs his jacket on the way out. He doesn’t really need it, but he likes the way it makes him look. The warm brown leather makes his light skin seem less pale and darkens the blues in his eyes. People look at him when he wears it. Their eyes trace the large stitches across the shoulder and down his body. It makes him feel like the lead in a movie and less like the kid brother he can’t escape feeling like. “I need to see a man about a bug."

\--

One day I’m is going to hit something near Lever, Peter muses as he’s watching the building go by from his perch atop the bus, heading towards downtown. He’s got a shift tonight at a questionable construction site down on Canal. The construction work has been coming more regularly for him now, a helpful supplement for his photos at least. It’s all still mostly under the table, which has both advantages and disadvantages. It won’t last forever but it’s working for him for now anyways. 

The Lever House reaches into the sky, and Peter just knows all that glass would reflect Torch's flame beautifully. The rigid angles would contrast the wild movements of the fire like Art(™), with the capital A and everything. Peter needs something Arty too. His last set hadn’t been worth much. He was lucky he’d found a clear action shot at all.

It'd been a bad night in general. None of his photos had come out well. And one of the Torch's hits had knocked out the relay for the cameras in his mask, meaning he’d had to rely on the auto timer for all his pictures. He'd have to fix that before he went out again. Hopefully it wouldn't mean buying any new parts, he barely had the money to cover the usual expenses.

The Torch had gotten too close to actually catching Peter as well. He needs to look like he's been stopped, but not actually get caught. Going to jail would put a real damper on this whole superhero photographer business he had going. Plus, Uncle Ben would be even more disappointed in him than when Peter had told him he wasn’t going to college. Aunt May still brought up scholarships and loan possibilities at least once a week.

It wasn’t that Peter didn’t want to go, he did, he really, _really_ did, but they were in so much debt dealing with the hospital bills after Uncle Ben got shot he couldn’t justify it. They needed him. It was the least he could do to make up for everything.

\--

He gets off the shift around seven in the morning. It’s definitely a shady job. If it’s not actually Maggia related, it’s at least union busting and labor law bending. Peter knows better than to ask those sorts of questions. If he doesn’t know, then he doesn’t have to lie. 

Aunt May calls when she wakes up to make sure he’s alive, and to once again express her unhappiness at him working nights like this. They have it down to a routine. Peter deflects and down play the sketchiness of the job. Aunt May insists it’s unnecessary for him to take jobs like this (the electricity getting turned off for three days last month disproves that). Peter assures her it’s just until he gets promoted to the day shift (a bald faced lie). Aunt May promises breakfast when he gets home and “Oh by the way, Ben’s prescriptions need to be refilled, I called it in last night so they should have it ready this morning. Can you pick it up on your way home?”

“Of course,” Peter assures her. 

“Thanks Sweetie,” She says and he can hear the sound of cabinets opening and closing. 

“Do we need anything else? Any groceries?”

“No, no, just the medicine,” May sounds distracted and Peter isn’t sure that’s totally true but he let’s it go. He’ll double check the essentials when he gets home, until then there’s not much he can do if she doesn’t want to tell him.

At Seven-thirty the pharmacy is barely open and never ready for him. It always takes them a few minutes to get the meds, during which Peter flips through magazines. He compares his own work to those of the photographers on staff for the various superhero rags and he’s got to say for the most part he’s work is better. He’s got a bit of an unfair advantage as most of his photos also feature him, but they’re good pictures of the heroes fighting him too. 

"Parker," the girl behind the pharmacy counter calls. She adds "Hey, Pete," when she sees him. 

"Hey, MJ. How's school?" Peter leans against the counter. 

"Good, I met a girl." she says with a small suggestive smile.

"And here I thought you were there for an education."

"Nah, just looking for a girl who can keep me in the style I will soon become accustomed to."

Peter laughs. “So this girl got dough?”

“Not yet, but she’s crazy smart, so she’s gonna be just fine. Okay." MJ holds up a small pill bottle, "red top is Neurontin, white top is Ultra, and the insurance is still covering those, but-"

Peter's stomach drops. "But?"

"They won't cover Nucynta anymore," she grimaces. 

"Of course not. The one that actually works.” Peter runs a hand through his hair. “How much?"

"Normally, 500. I can get you down to 350, but that's the best I can do."

"Thanks MJ." Peter shuffles through the maxed out cards looking for the blue one he made payments on last week. He hands it over to her with a sigh "Hopefully Galactus pays us a visit soon. I could use a good picture." 

"I'll keep my fingers crossed," MJ replies blithely and runs the card. She adds the bottle of Nucynta to the bag of pills. "Hey, looks like the Mole Man's popped up in Central Park. Maybe you can get a picture of that?" MJ says pointing at the muted TV where the news is showing the Mole Man pontificating about something.

"Not quite Galactus, but I guess it will do." Peter grabs the pills and his camera before sprinting towards the street and hooking a ride on a southbound train.

\---

Johnny finds the Bugle to be less than helpful in getting in contact with Peter Parker. The secretary refuses to give Johnny Parker's contact info. Yes, she knows who he is. Yes, she wants an autograph and a photo. No, she isn't going to help him. She can't even tell him when Peter will next be in the office since he apparently doesn't really work for them. He's a freelancer and only shows up when he has a picture to sell them.

"He'll probably be into tomorrow," she adds just as a bunch of phones around the office and Johnny's emergency ring all start going off at once. On the TV in the corner, the Mole Man explodes out of the ground in Central Park.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," Johnny says before flying out of the office window.

\---

Sue had mostly dealt with the Mole Man problem by the time Johnny got there. He rounds up a few of the straggling Moleiods, but otherwise it’s not particularly exciting. Sometimes it seems like the Mole Man just pops up to remind them that he’s around and less because he’s got a new brilliant plan to conquer NYC. Johnny’s only giving half of his attention to Sue and Reed as they finish their negotiations with the villain. He scans the crowd looking for someone who looks like they could be a Peter Parker. He dismisses the people holding up cell phones for photos. He figures a professional photographer probably has a real camera, and if he doesn't, then there’s no way Johnny would be able to pick him out of the crowd anyways. 

Off to the side, technically inside the police barrier though they haven’t noticed him, there’s a guy hanging off a tree at what should be an impossible angle taking photos with a nice, real camera. Johnny couldn’t say why, but he knows that _must_ Parker. It makes sense. Parker’s got to be crazy to get the shots he does.  
Johnny flies over to the tree and drifts down to be level with Parker’s face. Parker slowly lowers the camera revealing the prettiest hazel eyes Johnny’s ever seen. Johnny almost forgets why he’s here. 

“Can I help you, Mr. Torch?”

“I-you-Parker?”

“Parker? I don’t even know her,” Parker responds. Johnny has to fight to not smile at the dumbest of jokes.

“Are you Peter Parker?”

“I’d say who wants to know, but you’re not exactly low profile. Why are looking for a simple photographer like me, Mr. Torch? Did I get your bad side last time?”

“You can just call me Johnny. I was hoping you could help me find Spider-Man?”

“Why do you think I could help with that?” Parker asks, taking a quick close up of Johnny’s face, causing him to blink at the flash.

“You never miss any of his attempted robberies.”

“I’m sure I miss plenty.”

“No, I checked. He’s never been implicated in any completed crime, and you’ve been credited as the photographer every time he’s in the paper.” Johnny lays out. “ _And_ someone always calls in an anonymous tip when he’s planning a robbery. The only thing that makes sense is if you know him somehow, family or friend or I don’t know, maybe you just live near him and see when he crawls out the window.”

Parker carefully jumps down from the tree. “Impressive theory. But I’m afraid the correct answer is I’ve got a police scanner at home and hear the same tips you do. Sorry to disappoint.”

“No one would blame you for not turning him in.” Johnny follows him down to the ground. “We all get how hard it is when someone you’re close to is doing something bad.”

“I wish I could help, but I really don’t know the guy.” Parker holds up his hands in wide shrug.

“Okay, I can’t make you give him up, but here’s my number.” Johnny grabs one of the pens in Parker’s bag and writes his number on the back of Parker’s hand. “Call me if you change your mind. Or just want to hang out,” he adds because he’s an idiot and Parker’s hand is soft and his eyes are pretty and Johnny is a sucker for those eyes. He tries to convince himself it’s strategy. If Parker becomes his friend and trusts him, he’ll be more willing to tell Johnny the identity of Spider-Man. It’s a good strategy, but the truth is it’s mostly because of his gorgeous eyes.

\--

“Mole Man is not exactly front page news these days.” Jameson flips through the pictures Peter’s brought in.

“You still need pictures on page five,” Peter argues back.

“I’ll give you 200, and that’s being generous.”

“400,” Peter shoots back immediately, which gets Jameson to raise one eyebrow.

“Really, Parker?”

“Yeah, I know. 350?”

“250, because I like you. They’re not worth more then 100.”

“Thanks, Jameson.”

“Get me something about that new guy in Hell’s Kitchen, the devil something. Ben’s writing an expose and we need pictures.”

“I’m on it.” Peter gives Jameson a thumbs up before heading out the office. 

\---

Peter hangs the last camera from the side of the lamppost about a block down from the Hell’s Kitchen Bank of America. He's planning to "rob" it a little later that night, once the moon's a bit closer to clearing the tops of the buildings. Everybody likes a shot of the hero framed by the big harvest moon, plus the extra lighting will help with the color balance. Daredevil’s suit is such a dark red that it’s going to be hell to get a good picture of it in the dark. He's tinkered with all the cameras to get as clear a picture in low light as possible, but dark is still dark. 

With the last camera in place, Peter crawls up the roof across from the bank. He's got about an hour before he'll call in an anonymous tip and start the show. He spends the time practicing with tonight’s rig, learning the best spots to direct the fight to and how to angle them to get the best composition. He's swinging past the last camera, watching himself in the tiny frame at the bottom of his lens, finding the right moment to grab the shot when he hears a cry from the alley.

He moves quickly, but not silently or stealthily, a mistake he instantly regrets. He's not a hero and shouldn't have been playing one. 

Near the back of the alley where the street lamps barely reach there are three men standing in a semi-circle around a smaller guy doubled over on his knees.

"Please, please, I got family," the man on the ground begs.

"Well you should have thought of that before you went squealing to the pigs," the man in the middle says. He's wearing cowboy boots and a white cowboy hat, and Peter's been around long enough to recognize Montana when he sees him. The two men standing next to him are just as easily recognizable as Fancy Dan and the Ox, rounding out the enforcers. 

Peter should have just called the heroes when he heard something. He should have tried to investigate before rushing in. There’s a lot of things he should have done differently. Too late now, they've seen him. Hopefully whatever their victim had for the cops will be enough to put them away because Peter has just fucked himself and he wants it to be worth it. Running around playing villain has already got The Kingpin interested in his business and getting in his way is only going to draw more attention. He can’t just leave the guy though. He should. It would be the smart move, the safe move. In the back of his head he can still hear the echo of the gunshot and sees Ben’s blood on his hands alternating between red and purple in the glow of the police lights. 

The fight is painfully short. Peter is good at the showy stuff, good at avoiding getting hit and directing the flow of the battle to where he's got a camera pointing. He's never actually tried to win a fight. The Enforcers aren't like the heroes either, who never really wanted to hurt Peter - not perminentally anyways. These guys are more than happy to kill the idiot that got involved in their hit. He isn’t prepared for their efficiency or for their bullets. The heroes that use guns are few and far between and Peter tries to avoid them.  
Peter and the snitch get as far the mouth of the alley, before the Ox wraps a hand around Peter’s throat. A gunshot goes off behind them, and the snitch falls to the ground with blood pooling below his leg.

"Hey Dan, you ever tear the legs off a spider when you were a kid?" Montana asks, spinning his six-shooter around his forefinger as he saunters up to them. In the corner of Peter's eye, he can see everything as if it was happening to someone else.

He closes his fist, pressing against the buttons on his gloves as much as he can taking photo after photo.

"Just take care of it," Fancy Dan replies, stepping on the back of the man Peter had been trying to save and firing two clean shots into his head.

"You haven't been nearly as much fun since the old lady left you," Montana comments, aiming his gun at Peter's leg. "I used to pull the legs of those big harvestmen, you know the ones with the really long legs. I'd bet you'd be almost as fun." He fires, and Peter's knee explodes in pain.

"What about you, Ox? You ever pull the legs off a spider?" Montana asks over Peter's scream.

The Ox shakes his head.

"You should give it a try. It's fun."

The Ox gives Peter a considering look before wrapping his other hand around Peter's wrist and squeezing. Peter can feel the bones of his wrist grinding together painfully and the web shooter digging through the skin into his wrist until the metal clasp securing it in place shatters. Then there's a crack he feels all the way down his arm.

"Boys, don't you know, a spider’s just like everything else. If you want it dead, you aim for the head." Fancy Dan brings his gun up to Peter's face and the Ox let's go of his neck to give Dan more room, which is all the opening Peter needs. He jerks out of the way of the bullet, his spider-sense and speed giving him just enough of an edge that it just grazes his ear and twists his broken hand out of the glove in the Ox's grip. It's probably the most painful thing Peter has ever subjected himself to, and he can’t keep the screams inside as he does it. He gets his other hand up and a webline out to swing away as fast as he can, leaving behind the glove and broken web shooter.

He doesn't know if they follow him, or for how long. He just swings up through the darkest corners of the skyline that he can until the sun starts to come up.

Peter tumbles down onto a roof somewhere near the Bowery unable to go any further. He leans against the rickety legs of the water tower and takes stock of the situation. His hand is already starting to heal, the bones knitting themselves back together. Peter's body has been more resilient than most since the spider bite and though the Ox's grip had been strong enough to completely destroy a normal person's wrist, it had only caused a few fractures in Peter's. Still hurts like hell, but it would be fine.

His knee is a bit harder to tell. If he didn’t have powers, he’s not sure he’d still have a leg, but as it is his knee cap is in pieces and he has no idea if this is the sort of thing the spider healing can heal. The bile rises suddenly, and Peter turns away, focusing on the dark grey sky and breathing in and out through his mask until the urge to vomit passes. On the plus side, he still has his mask. They don't know who he is. That's good. That's really good.

Breathe in, breathe out.

He can't go home like this, and Aunt May is going to wake up any minute now and wonder why he never made it home on the one night he was supposed to. He has call her. In a minute. Right now, he's going to watch the sun rise and breathe in and out and in and out, and ignore the way the pain in his limbs makes everything else feel small and far away.

She picks up on the first ring. She always does.

“Hey Aunt May, it’s Peter.” He greets her, keeping his voice low so she can’t hear how every word wants to become a hiss of pain.

“Peter? I thought you weren’t supposed to work last night.”

“I wasn’t. I didn’t. I went out with some friends and it got so late I ended up crashing at their house. I’m sorry I didn’t come home.”

“It’s okay. I’m glad you had a nice time.” 

“Yeah, I’ll be home later, okay?”

“Alright Sweetie, we’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight,” he agrees hanging up.

He's just going to stay here for a few more hours. Then he'll figure out what to do.

\---

The police find the body of George Tern at 6:08 in the morning. He's tied up in an unknown white elastic substance, beaten badly, and shot in the head and leg. There are small pieces of a red and blue fabric under his nails. It takes Reed less then an hour in the lab to confirm the white substance matches the ropes Spider-Man was using to escape capture last time. It's completely unique. a brilliant innovation, according to Reed. By his estimation who ever invented it is certainly a genius, an evil genius, he amends when Sue gives him a ‘stop being impressed by murders’ look. 

The red and blue fabric also matches the color and pattern of Spider-Man's gloves. 

To add to the mounting evidence, they find the glove, rips consistent with fingernails dragging along it, in the trash a few blocks away.

"I don't believe it," Johnny says again.

"The evidence is very convincing," Reed gently argues.

"No. No. It doesn't make sense. Spidey's never even endangered civilians before," Johnny protests.

"Spidey?" Sue asks. "Johnny, honey, Spider-Man isn't your friend. He's a villain. I know you want to believe the best in people, but he's crossing lines. The victim was going to testify against Fisk. Whatever Spider-Man was doing before, he's thrown his lot in with the Kingpin now."

"Maybe he was forced?” Johnny argues. “Maybe they're holding his girlfriend hostage and he has to? We don't know the whole story. I'm telling you, this doesn't make sense. This isn't like him."

"When we have him in custody we can ask, okay?" Reed offers. "I promise we won't jump to any conclusions about motive."

Johnny reluctantly nods. There is no winning against the combined power of Reed and Sue. 

\---

Peter watches the sun as it moves across the sky all day until it is well past noon. His leg isn’t really looking any better, definitely not better enough to be walking anywhere. He’s hungry and hot and stuck on this roof with nowhere to go. He can’t even go home, not like this. There’s no way he could hide this from Aunt May and Uncle Ben. There’ll be questions, and he doesn’t have good answers for them. He opens his phone to call Aunt May and say he’s gonna stay over at his friends again. Below the house number is the anonymous he uses to call in his anonymous tips to the superheroes. 

He pulls of his remaining glove and there, slightly blurred, is Johnny’s number. The Human Torch is a hero. This was what he did, help innocent people who had been shot by gangsters and were stuck on roofs starving to death. He was maybe giving up that Peter and Spider-Man were connected, but he could still keep Johnny from finding out the whole truth. He didn’t really have much of a choice anyways. He could ask Johnny for help, or stay up on this roof until tomorrow and hope his leg healed enough to move. 

Johnny picks up on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Hey Flamebrain, I think I need some help.” Peter tries to sound casual.

“Spidey? How did you -- doesn’t matter -- did you do it?”

Peter pauses, unsure of what Johnny is talking about and how to respond. 

“Oh god, you did, didn’t you? You killed him. Wh-”

Peter hangs up. Shit. SHIT. They thought he did it. They thought he was the one who shot that guy in the alley. That’s why the Enforcers had let him get away. They were framing him. Fuck. FUCK. He can never be Spider-Man again. Even if he made a new suit and changed his name, there are enough martial arts savants out there that they would know him based just on the way he moved and old Flamebrain would undoubtedly recognize him if they ever spoke. He can’t even rely on the construction work. It was all shady shell company bullshit. He can’t risk running into the Enforcers. He can’t go back to waiting tables. He was terrible at it and it was never enough money, especially now that the insurance company is trying to weasel out of paying for the long term medication and with the physio bills still adding up and the ambulance fees already in collections, he needs these jobs. 

To top it all off he’s stuck on this stupid roof with a busted knee.

\---

It takes Johnny a week to track down Parker again. He doesn’t see him at the big showdown with Doom or at The Daily Bugle the next day. It was a big crowd, so maybe Johnny missed him, but there was no Parker photo in the Bugle. 

Spider-Man hasn’t been seen around all week either. That’s not really a surprise, all things considered, but Johnny can’t let go of the feeling that they’re connected or the lingering guilt over how his phone call with Spider-Man had gone. He’d let Reed and Sue in his head. They were both so smart and so much better at judging people then him. He’d always let himself be led by anyone who paid even the smallest amount of attention to him. They were right. Spider-Man wasn’t his friend. They were at best amicable enemies. He still knew Spider-Man better than anyone else though. He knew Spider-Man wasn’t just another heartless criminal. He’d always been careful in his crimes. No one got hurt, not even Johnny. There had been times that Johnny had made mistakes that ought to have been deadly or at least disastrous, but Spider-Man never pushed the advantage. He wouldn’t kill someone, not unless he had to.

He called Johnny asking for help, and Johnny hadn’t listened. He’d tried calling the number back, but Spider-Man hadn’t picked up. 

When he finds Parker, it’s one of those New York miracles. In a sea of millions of strangers, you just happen to see the one person you’re looking for walking down the street on the opposite end of town that’d you’d expect.

“We need to talk.” Johnny plucks Parker out of the crowd and heads towards the nearest rooftop.

“We do?” Parker crosses his arms and leans against the roof access door.

“About your friend Spider-Man.”

“I told you I don’t know him,” Parker insists sharply.

Johnny ignores his denials. “Just tell me, truthfully. Do you think he did it?”

Parker looks at Johnny with assessing eyes. “I know he didn’t.”

“You know?”

“Yeah,” Peter says. “I was there. I saw the whole thing.”

“Why didn’t you go to the police? Tell them they’re after the wrong guy.”

“You know why that guy died, right?” Parker asks, and then barrels on before Johnny can answer. “He was going to testify against the Kingpin. I’m not going to make the same mistake. If I go to the police pointing fingers at the Kingpin’s goons, I’m going to end up the same way.”

“I’ll protect you.”

“And my family? My neighbors? That nice girl who gives me a discount at the pharmacy? Everyone I know becomes a target, there’s no way you can protect them all. Spider-Man is over. Even if I tried to get my camera back, there’s no way he’s coming out ever again.” Parker starts off counting them off on his fingers before swinging his arms open and gesticulating with wide open movements until his hands fall and he sinks back against the door.

Parker made some good points, shared more than he probably meant to, and there was a lot there Johnny maybe should have paid attention to but his mind fixed on one thing and one thing only. “You got pictures?” 

“Yeah,” Peter frowns like he doesn’t see the point. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t go back to the crime scene. What if they see me?”

“If you have pictures proving Spidey’s innocence, you can clear his name.” Johnny fees relief flood him. They can fix this. He can make his early behavior up to Spidey.

“Did you miss the part where I’m not putting my family at risk?”

“You wouldn’t be.” Johnny assures him “I’ll go get the camera from where you left it, and give it to the police. I won’t tell anyone they’re from you, it’ll be totally anonymous.”

Parker nods slowly. “I guess.”

“Okay, let’s go!” Johnny sweeps Parker up in his arms and flies towards the alley. Parker wraps his arms around Johnny’s neck in a surprisingly strong grip.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re incredibly hot?” Parker asks.

“No, never, Teen Beat definitely never voted me hottest teen in America.”

“You’re worse than taking the subway in July.” Parker grumbles, but holds Johnny closer.

“But so much faster,” Johnny says, setting Parker down on the street.

Parker stand there with his arms still looped around Johnny’s shoulders. “Yeah, I bet you can be real fast.”

“Not always.”

“Not when it matters?” Peter asks leaning in.

“Exactly,” Johnny leans forward as well and their faces are only centimeters apart when Parker suddenly steps back, a little unsteadily. Just like that, he’s out of reach and walking stiffly towards the alley, all of his earlier worry about being seen near the crime scene forgotten.

“Shit, it’s gone,” he says, staring up at a lamppost.

“It has been sitting out here for a week,” Johnny points out coming to stand next to Peter, trying not to be disappointed. 

“What now?”

“I don’t know, I guess we can start asking around if anyone knows what happened to it.”

Parker is still staring up at the lamp post.

“You know Spider-Man is innocent, right?”

“Yeah, I trust you.”

“Even without me. Like if you found out I was compromised and not trustworthy, you’d still believe Spider-Man was innocent?”

Johnny thinks about it for a minute before answering. “Yeah, I mean it didn’t make sense for it to be Spidey. That’s not how he does things.”

Parker nods. “I think I know how to find the camera, but I’m gonna need Spider-Man to do it. Promise you’re not going to try and arrest him.”

“Yeah, of course.” 

“Okay. For the record, I’m sorry.” Parker opens up his bag and pulls out a bit of red and blue fabric and pulling it over his face. “Hey, Flamebrain,” he says awkwardly.

“Wait, but you take the pictures.” Johnny feels like he’s missed a step. Parker takes the pictures. He’s seen Parker taking pictures. Is this some evil twin or clone thing? There was an evil version of Reed from another dimension once, maybe Parker and an Alternate Universe Parker are working together to rob banks and take photos while doing it. That seems unnecessarily complicated. 

“I have a few camera’s set up all around the area I’m planning to hit and controls for them in my glove that lets me take pictures after I call you to come fight.” Parker - Spider-Man explains, point vaguely around the fire escapes and signs.

“You call in the tips against yourself?”

“Yeah, I mean, robbing a bank is a lot of work. You have to actually get the money without getting caught, first of all, which is like insanely difficult. Then you’ve got to launder the money. That means dealing with some organized crime venture, and they always have like a hundred strings attached to any favor. Then you’ve got to deal with the people who want their money back, and that builds a record. The police get involved and the supers are actually interested in you, which means they actually put effort into stopping you. It’s a mess. A picture of a hero saving the day I can sell for a couple hundred dollars the next day, no fuss. Plus, no one would suspect Peter Parker of being Spider-Man. Like you said, I can’t be in the pictures if I’m taking them.”

Johnny laughs astonished. “Reed was right. You are an evil genius.”

“Thanks?” Spider-Man cocks his head a little.

“Okay, so why did you need to be Spider-Man for this?”

“Well, I don’t have the controls for my cameras anymore because they were in the glove the Enforcers got, but I still have the cameras linked to my mask. I can see what they’re looking at, which will hopefully be something recognizable and not a blank wall,” Peter explains, running a finger in a careful pattern over the blue lines on the side of his mask.

“Any luck?” 

“Yeah, actually.” Spider-Man says with surprise. “It’s in someone’s apartment. I can see out the window too. I think that’s the GW on the right, and Jersey on the other side of the river. Um, I don’t have a good scale, but I’d say we’re half a mile from the river probably. Maybe somewhere in Harlem?”

“To Harlem.” Johnny does not try and carry Parker again. Spidey’s always been able to keep up with him, and that moment when he’d first put Parker down is still whispering awkwardly in his head. He only gets about a dozen blocks when he notices that Spidey is not keeping up with him like he usually does. He swings back around.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just down a web shooter.” Spidey tries to shrug it off, but now that Johnny is paying attention, he seems to favoring one side. If Johnny thinks back on it, he’s been moving oddly all day. 

“Here.” Johnny holds out his hands to Spidey. 

Spidey doesn’t move at first.

“Come on, we don’t want those pictures to fall into the wrong hands, do we?”

Spidey hesitates another second before nodding and grips Johnny’s hand. He’s a better flight partner then a lot of the guys Johnny’s had to carry this way. There’s no real way to make them aerodynamic, but Spidey does a pretty good job anyways. He knows how to move his body to help on the turns, too. Johnny never noticed before, but Spidey’s hands are sort of sticky where they grip his wrists. 

Once they’re in the right general area, he puts Spidey down to start crawling around on the side of buildings, looking for the angle that matches his camera’s.  
He pauses at one of the fifth-story windows, looks back and forth for a bit, and then gives Johnny a thumbs up, shoots up a webline, and swings through the glass, feet first.  
Johnny floats down to the broken window. Inside, Spidey is shaking off the bits of broken glass and limping, a hand on his knee which looks slightly off, towards the array of cameras sitting on a desk. 

“You know we could have tried knocking first?” Johnny points out

Spidey shrugs. “They stole my cameras.”

“I believe they found your abandoned cameras on a lamp post. You know how New York is, finders keepers.”

“I’m a supervillain, reckless property damage is part of my job description. Besides, they don’t seem to be home.” Spidey gathers his cameras.

“You’re really not.” Johnny finds a piece of paper and leaves a note blaming the broken window on a doombot and giving the owner the number for the Fantastic Four's damages department.

“And I expect you to take that secret to the grave,” Spidey replies, grabbing Johnny’s hand as they fly out the window and to a roof top down on the Upper West Side, so Spidey can go through the footage and to see if any of it can be used to clear his name.

“Why do you do it anyways? I mean, there’s got to be easier ways to make money, and you’re clearly really, really smart. Why aren’t you in school?”

Spidey absentmindedly rubs a hand over his injured knee. “Not the kind of money I need, as quickly as I need it. School was too expensive, even with my scholarships. I couldn’t afford all the extra expenses without a loan, and my family needed me around.”

“Yeah, I know how that goes.” 

Peter scoffs. “Yeah sure, you get what it’s like living in that fancy tower.”

Johnny shrugs. “We didn’t always live in that tower.”

“Yeah?” Peter nudges Johnny’s leg with his toe, half apology and half urging him to continue.

“Yeah,” Johnny stares at the clouds. He’s never really talked about this. After the accident that gave them their powers, they all stopped talking about the past. Especially him and Sue. Things were so much better with Reed, it seemed easier to just try and bury the old days. “Our parents died when I was a kid. I was about ten when Dad died--he died second.” Johnny clarifies. “Sue was supposed to start college that year, she’d gotten this big scholarship to this really fancy school in California. We didn’t have any relatives though, except this one aunt in Jersey and she didn’t want to take care of any kid. So Sue stayed home with me. She was gonna be a doctor. Instead, she became a waitress.”

Spidey doesn’t say anything for a minute.“I fucked up. When I got my powers, I did something dumb, something selfish and wrong and my uncle got hurt really badly because of it. It’s my fault we’re in such a bad place now. So I have to be the one that fixes it.”

“You know, I don't think your uncle would want you giving up your whole future for him,” Johnny offers after a minute.

“I don’t think your sister would want you blaming yourself because she chose you over hers.” Spidey snaps back too quickly. “Sorry, it’s not business.” He looks back at the camera.  
Johnny just shrugs, “If I’d been a better kid, maybe she wouldn’t have had to.”

Spidey shakes his head. “That’s not how it works. Even if it had just been bad luck, and I had nothing to do with my uncle’s injury, I would still be doing this. He’s my family, I’ll always choose him and I’m sure your sister feels the same. Oh, I found it.” He shows the camera to Johnny. It’s dark and a little unfocused, but clear enough to see Fancy Dan standing over the dead man with a gun while Montana and the Ox have Spider-Man pinned to a wall. 

Johnny gives Spidey a questioning look. “I was trying to help him. Last time I pretend I’m a hero.”

“I don’t know. I think you’d make a pretty good one if you wanted.”

“No thanks. Villainy pays much better.”

“You sure? I mean, which one of us is living in the big fancy tower here?”

Spidey laughs. “Alright, you get me on the Fantastic Four payroll, and I’ll give up my evil ways.”

“Deal.” Johnny holds out his hand, and Peter gives it a shake. 

\--

Parker declines to join Johnny when he takes the camera to show Reed. Something about not wanting to be arrested and when Johnny points out he could come as Parker he says he'd rather keep Parker's name as far away from the photo as possible. Reed makes a few copies to keep at the Baxter building just in case something mysteriously happens to the photo while it’s with the police. 

“You know, Spidey was trying to help the guy,” Johnny mentions.

“I saw. You were right, Johnny, and we should have trusted your judgement.” Reed places a reassuring hand on Johnny’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, um, so he’s clearly not a bad guy and he’s like really smart, you know, designing that web fluid all by himself and even the mechanism to fire it.” 

“Yes, he seems like a man who had a lot of promise.” Reed acknowledges.

“Right, he does. And you always have so much going on in here, that you can’t let the regular lab techs help because they might get hurt,” Johnny presses on.

“What are you trying to say, Johnny?”

“I think you should hire Spider-Man to be your lab assistant,” Johnny says in a rush. “If he could get money legally, he wouldn’t be trying to rob banks, and like you said, he’s got a lot of promise and he’s really smart and he’s a really good guy and you know super-powers so you wouldn’t have to worry about him getting hurt when you accidentally open a portal to an alternate universe full of killer robots.”

“Okay,” Reed agrees easily.

“Yeah?” Johnny grins, hope bubbling up in his chest.

“Sure. One more criminal off the streets, turning their considerable talents towards helping humanity is certainly worth a little risk.” Reed smiles. “Tell him to come by sometime and we’ll work something out.”

\--

Peter is perched on the roof across from an art museum with loud alarms going off when Johnny arrives. 

“What happened? Did something go wrong with the lab job?” Johnny asks, and he so sincerely concerned Peter almost feels bad.

“Nah, that’s great,” Peter reassures him. “Reed’s amazing, the work is amazing. I never thought I’d actually get to do that sort of science after I quit school.”

“Then what's with the robbery? Do you need money? You know you can come to me.” 

“I don’t need money,” Peter says standing up so he’s a little taller than Johnny, “I just missed our time together.”

“What?”

“Come on, Flamebrain. I thought you said you could always catch me.” Peter jumps off the side of the building and swings away.

It takes Johnny a second to put it together, and then he’s after Peter like a rocket. It could be a longer chase, but Peter’s never seriously tried to get away from Johnny in his life and he’s not about to start now. Johnny hits him with enough force to send them both spinning onto the nearby roof, and while Johnny might have more experience in an actual fight, Peter doesn’t think he’s trying very hard right now. Peter gets the upper hand easily, and with his increased strength holds Johnny in place.

“Looks like I caught you this time.”

“Oh no! Mr. Evil Spider-Man, what will you do with me?”

Peter’s been thinking about it for a long time, since he first started the Spider-Man con really, and Johnny has definitely seemed into it with Peter, even if he never seriously responded to Spider-Man’s attempts at flirting. He pulls off the mask, and Johnny meets him half-way. His mouth is searing hot, like pressing his lips to hot coals and Peter chases that heat back down to rough rooftop and feels the slow blistering along his fingers as the flames flicker past where they’re buried in Johnny’s hair. A sweet pain that proves this moment is real. Peter had dreamed of it often enough that without that he’s not sure he’d would believe how lucky he’d gotten. 

Johnny’s arms encircle his shoulders, and the heat surrounds him and holds him in an embrace he never wants to escape.


End file.
